


Hook, Line & Sinker

by Captive9



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Sex, Beating, Choking, De-Serumed Steve Rogers, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Derogatory Language, Face-Fucking, Forced Orgasm, Gang Rape, Gangbang, HYDRA Trash Party, Humiliation, Hurt Steve Rogers, M/M, Public Humiliation, Slurs, Steve Whump, bucky does not take part in the trash partying, coping mechanisms that border on dissociation, im going to hell: the fic, steve x stubbornness otp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2020-03-02 22:00:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18819856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Captive9/pseuds/Captive9
Summary: Hydra agents capture and de-serum Steve, then livestream him being fucked as bait for the Avengers.





	Hook, Line & Sinker

**Author's Note:**

> throwing myself into the dumpster at full velocity
> 
> scroll back up and read them tags pls ^^

“Don’t worry, Captain. It is not permanent.” The man in the lab coat crossed to his other side, brandishing a syringe. “However, you will be dead before it wears off.”

Steve took what little pride he could in the fact that he didn’t flinch, as the needle was shoved into the bundle of veins at his elbow. His glare remained unbroken as he was injected with yet more of the thick, slightly luminous blue liquid, that burned where it entered. Glaring was the only real form of defiance he had left. It had taken eight Hydra operatives to subdue him, before they’d pumped him with the first dose. But once the first needle had gone in, it was all over. At first, he thought it was just a sedative. But no: this was something else. Before long, it felt like every bone in his body was on fire. And then the men holding him were suddenly a lot bigger than they had been before.

Now, the pain had mostly faded to a dull, full-body ache. But Steve knew what it had done. He couldn’t hear a thing out of his left ear. The faces on the far side of the room were blurry. And his suit was puddled around his legs where he was thrown onto the floor, half torn off him, half too-small for this new (or rather, this _old_ ) body.

The man in the lab coat seemed to be in charge, from what Steve could tell. He had an accent, but Steve couldn’t place it. Like the other Hydra operatives, he wore a mask that covered part of his face, which was interesting. Steve wondered why they would go to the effort of concealing their identities, in their own base. He had been tracking these guys for a week and a half before they decided they were going to steal him away in the night and revert him to his 1942 model. For the last six months, Steve, Sam and Natasha had been cleaning up what remained of Hydra. Locating the bases; taking them down. And searching for Bucky. Sometimes, Steve thought he was getting close. Even thought he might have picked up a trail. But then Bucky would vanish again, slipping through his fingers, and Steve would have to try not to look too disappointed while the others were watching.

“This anti-serum was developed from the version that created the Asset,” the man in the lab coat continued, like him and Steve were having this discussion over dinner. “So it is imperfect. Like him. But it will be enough, for what needs to be done.”

“Yeah? And what's that?” Steve tugged at the restraints around his wrists. It was a little satisfying to know that they still felt the need to cuff him, even when he was ninety pounds and drugged up to his eyeballs. “If you want to kill me, I hate to break it to you, but you didn’t need to go to all this effort.”

Except Steve knew it wouldn’t be as simple as just that, just killing him. Hydra knew they could put a bullet in his head, if that’s all they wanted. No, they wanted him weakened, for some reason. And they’d certainly achieved it. He hadn’t felt this helpless – physically – in a long time. They could do almost anything to him, in this state. He redoubled his glaring, and tried to be subtle as he could in twisting against the cuffs, trying to work out if he could shimmy out of them. Skinny wrists could be an unexpected blessing.

“We will kill you, yes,” said the lab coat. “But first, you will serve a greater purpose. Is it ready?”

“Almost, sir,” said one of the other agents.

Steve glanced across the room. His intel about this base had clearly been off. He’d been expecting ten agents stationed here; fifteen at the most. But he’d seen twice as many faces since he was brought in. Hydra operatives, all of them.

In the centre of the room, two of them were setting something up. It took him a moment to realise what it was. A black tripod with a camera attached to the top. And boy if it didn't give him an awful feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“If you think I’m going to tell you anything—”

“Save your breath, Captain. I have no doubt that you’re trained in all sorts of ways to resisting interrogation. That’s not your purpose here today.”

And then Steve found himself being dragged to the space in front of the camera. He tried to walk, rather than simply be hauled like a piece of meat, but his legs tangled in the suit and he ended up being flung unceremoniously onto the floor. He bit his lip to keep in the gasp of pain. Nothing like being thrown onto a slab of concrete to rattle every last, still-aching bone. Hands twisted in his hair, and Steve was yanked upright.

“Is it working?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Smile for the camera, Captain.”

Steve glanced in its direction. Was this a hostage tape? Who would it be sent to? Tony was the obvious choice, now that SHIELD was no more; he had the most money to spare for a ransom. But that didn’t feel right. This was Hydra. They took no prisoners. And even if they did, there was no way they would let Steve Rogers out of their clutches alive.

“You planning on telling me what I’m doing here any day soon?”

“Yes, I suppose you must be wondering. There are many people in Hydra who would gladly like to put a bullet between your eyes, Captain. You destroyed much of our organisation and cost us our most valuable asset. However, Hydra will grow back to its former glory and beyond. As it always does. And you will play a part in eliminating our greatest threat, before the day is out.”

Steve stiffened. “Whatever you think I’m going to do for you—”

“You don’t have to _do_ anything, Captain. You just have to _take_.”

And then suddenly the lab coat was moving in front of him, blocking everything else from view. His hands went down, working at the fly of his pants, and Steve’s stomach lurched as he realised what this was. _Jesus_. He clenched his jaw, keeping his teeth as tightly shut as possible, but the man was unfazed.

“What do you think the limits of your serum are, Captain?” he asked nonchalantly. “Do you think it could regrow, say, a finger?” He reached out, and ran his thumb across Steve’s lips. “You are prettier than expected. How about a cock? Do you think your serum could regrow that? It would be an interesting experiment, don’t you think?”

Steve kept his lips tightly shut, not rising to the bait. He wasn’t surprised to discover, in the twenty-first century, that Hydra was full of sadists. His only surprise was that these kinds of people had somehow masqueraded as the good guys for as long as they had.

“Nothing to say? What a disappointment.” The man’s hand withdraw, and then he was taking his cock out of his pants. Already half-hard. Steve glared at him, straight in the eye, not looking at it “If I feel so much as a hint of teeth, Captain, I’ll have my men start cutting bits off you off. After all, the Avengers will come for you, whole or not.”

Steve’s jaw tightened even further. So _that_ ’s what this was. A plot to draw in the other Avengers. Presumably so that Hydra could kill them.

And – shit. It might actually work. The lab coat was right: they would come for him, no matter what Hydra did. Serum or no serum. _Whole or not._

The head of the man's cock smeared wetly against his lips, already leaking pre-come. Steve could feel another agent standing behind him, pressing too close against his back. Out of all the things he’d faced, he’d never had this happen to him before. He should have seen it coming. They wanted to give the Avengers reason to rescue him, as fast as they possibly could. And this was _Hydra_. They wanted to humiliate him. They wanted to make this personal.

“Open your mouth.”

Steve did not.

He didn’t know what the Hydra agent behind him did – it might have been an elbow between the shoulder blades – but the next thing he knew, he was in a world of pain. It wasn’t a conscious choice to cry out, but before the stars had even cleared from his vision, the cock was being shoved into his mouth. The instinct to bit down was so great that Steve barely knew how he resisted. He squeezed his eyes shut instead, trying to ignore the way the way it filled his mouth. The taste, the smell.

The lab coat made an appreciative noise above him. His hand curled in the hair at the back of Steve’s head. And then he started fucking. Shallow thrusts, filling his mouth with hard flesh.

Steve tried not to think about how this would look, on a screen. How his… his _friends_ would be watching this.

He tried to take himself out of it. Like he had done in alleyways in Brooklyn, when it had gotten to the point where he couldn’t fight back anymore, and he was just getting the shit kicked out of him as he curled miserably in the dirt and tried to protect his vital organs. He was sitting in his favourite window of the tower, drawing the skyline. He was walking back to his apartment after a run with Sam, both of them out of breath, his muscles singing from exertion. He was sitting at the kitchen counter, the rich smell of Natasha’s cooking rising from a pot, filling the room. He was—

He was on his knees in a Hydra base, and a cock was shoving at his throat. Steve choked at the intrusion, struggling against the hold of the body in front of him and the one of the body behind. But apparently him having such thing as a gag reflex wasn’t a concern for the man fucking his face. He gagged, his face and his throat both burning, as the man fucked him like he didn’t need it to _breathe_.

Eventually, the lab coat’s thrusts became rougher, his grunts heavier, until he shoved in one last time and Steve felt the warm flood at the back of his throat. He pulled out some before he was finished, just enough for Steve to get the last of it on his tongue. As soon as the cock was gone from his mouth, he spat it out, straight onto the floor. Maybe he was being raped for the world to see, and he was helpless to stop it. But he wouldn’t give them anything. He wouldn’t give them an inch.

The lab coat hit him again, almost lazily, but still hard enough to snap his head to the side, before tucking himself back into his pants. Steve ran his tongue over his teeth, hoping none were broken. That certainly wouldn’t made this any easier. The tastes of come and blood mingled in his mouth.

“You never heard of… buying a guy dinner first?”

 “I’m afraid I’m not much of a romantic.”

“Figured as much.”

The lab coat gazed down at him, an odd look on his face. Steve tried to hold his gaze like he didn’t have the guy’s dick forced into his mouth, a minute ago.

“You have spirit, Captain,” he said eventually. “More than I expected. Shall we see how long it lasts?”

Another body took the space in front of Steve. Black uniform, cock already hard in his hand. He took Steve by the jaw and shoved in without a word. His cock was bigger than the lab coat’s had been, and Steve found himself gagging a lot sooner. As he fucked Steve’s face, he heard the other Hydra men drawing in closer. Glancing across, he saw one palming himself through his uniform. Another was stroking himself openly as he watched. A hand trailed through his hair; fingers lingered on him, like they owned him. It made his stomach churn almost as much as the cock in his mouth.

“Look at him. Fuck. Have you ever seen anything like that?”

“I thought he’d be an ugly little fucker. Didn’t expect this.”

“I know. Prettier than a girl.”

“Can you believe Hydra was ever scared of this twink whore?”

“Look at those fucking lips. He was _made_ to suck cock.”

“Hey, how many people do you think are jerking off to this right now?”

To distract himself, Steve tried to pinpoint their accents. At least two of them were American. One was potentially British. One was too ambiguous for Steve to pin down, like the lab coat. The other could be German.

“Can’t wait to get my dick in that.”

“I’m going to fucking _ruin_ him when I fuck him properly.”

No, not German. Steve knew well enough what a German accent sounded like. European, though, definitely.

The man fucking his mouth pulled out to come on his face, painting his cheeks and lips with streaks of come. A moment later, the same cock, softening, was shoved back between his teeth.

“Clean it,” a voice commanded. Belgian, maybe. “Clean it, slut.”

Steve looked up, met the man’s gaze. Blue and round and ordinary as could be. He scowled as hard as he could, his tongue lying deliberately flat and still in his mouth. Not an inch. Not a single goddamn inch. Everything they wanted from him, they’d have to take. A noise of anger, and the cock was taken out of his mouth, and he was slapped again. Twice; hatefully.

“The little bitch thinks he’s too good for us.”

Steve thought that the scum on the concrete underneath his knees was too good for these guys, but before he could voice that thought, another cock was forced into his mouth, and it began again. Some of them were rougher than others, slapping him around as they liked, fucking his throat so hard he thought he would pass out for lack of air. The words _slut_ and _bitch_ and _whore_ were thrown at him over and over, until he was hearing them in his head even when they weren’t talking. One forced his head up and down, pleasuring himself. Some of them fucked his mouth as casually as if they were reading the morning paper. Unzip, dick in his mouth, thrusting, a few moans, coming down his throat or on his tongue or on his face. And then zip back up again.

It was almost better, in a way, when they were rougher, when they made it clear that this was about hurting him, about causing him pain and humiliating him. Steve knew how to roll with the punches; he’d been doing it all his life. This was no more than that, he told himself, as yet another one commented on his “cock-sucking lips” that definitely weren’t doing any sucking , as he rammed his cock down Steve’s throat.

After the fifth – or was it the sixth? – had finished, and was smearing come across Steve’s thin cheek with the head of his cock, the lab coat spoke again.

“How many are watching?”

“Twelve thousand, three hundred, sir. It’s been taken down in twenty countries, so far. But in others…”

“The Avengers will be tracing the signal. They will not risk losing it.”

_Twelve thousand, three…_

Steve’s eyes flickered to the camera. God. They weren’t just sending it to the Avengers. They were… they were _broadcasting_ it.

“How are you feeling, Captain Rogers?”

Thousands of people were watching this – watching him, on his knees, taking Hydra cock. How many of them were disgusted with him? How many of them _were_ jerking off to this?

Steve took a breath.

Well. His popularity figures had been taking a dip recently, anyway.

He held his chin as high as he could bear to as he looked the man in the eye, regardless of the fact that his face was covered in come. And the fact that he hurt. He hurt a lot, actually. With the serum, he could launch himself out of a window and get back up. But in this body? A mean right swing left him _hurting_ , and he’d taken more than a few of those. He could feel his left eye beginning to swell up, and his jaw was aching for more than one reason. There were stars in his vision that weren’t going away.

He knew, logically, that he should stop provoking them. But he also knew that he would rather be beaten unconscious than submit to them, regardless of how stupid that might be.

“Oh, I’m peachy.”

The lab coat’s eyes narrowed. “Do you think your friends are watching? How do you think they are feeling, right now?”

“Like they want to put a few bullets in you, I imagine.”

“And how long do you imagine it will take them to come for you, Captain?”

Steve didn’t answer. But he doubted it would be long. Even if they’d taken him halfway across the world, Tony could get here in a matter of hours. It would only depend on how long they took to find him, and they’d already been tracking this base before he was taken.

But if they came for him…

Steve eyed the room. There were far more Hydra agents behind the camera, than in front of it; only the five or six who’d had their way with him had appeared, so far, in the livestream. This was a strong base, but their strength was hidden from the camera. And if there were this many in this room alone, then there must be more, many more, throughout the rest of the building. They must be supremely confident in their defences, to be luring the Avengers into a trap. Usually, when the team attacked, the others guys ran in the other direction.

And they had Steve as a bargaining chip. If they pressed a gun against Steve’s head… his teammates would surrender.

Damn it. This wasn’t good. Steve needed to find a way to warn them.

When Steve looked into the camera, he realised that it was difficult to keep his eyes in one place. That he had been swaying for a while now, and some things in the room were kind of overlapping. Still, he found the camera’s small black eye as best he could, and took a deep breath.

“At least forty, maybe more, heavily armed—”

The hand wrapped around his throat from behind, crushing his slender neck like a flower stem. His airway closed up with a scream of blood in his ears. The stars in his vision exploded. For a moment, Steve thought that was it. He was going to choke, and last thing he’d ever see would be the grey walls of a Hydra cell. But then he was doubled over, his forehead was pressed against cold concrete, his lungs shuddering as they overworked themselves to draw breath.

The feeling of another needle sliding into his arm felt faraway.

“I think that’s enough going easy on him, don’t you? Strip him properly. Get him on his knees. How many cocks do you think he will take before his friends arrive? Ten? Twenty?”

“Don’t know how the little bitch will take it, sir. Look at him.”

Steve’s legs were being lifted, the suit kicked aside. Hands on his hips, propping him up. His knees were flat on the floor, and kicked apart. Too far apart. His wrists were still tied behind his back, and he would have probably lost his balance and fell flat on his face if the hands hadn’t held him steady, like a ragdoll. He was vaguely aware of another body moving in front of him, more fingers in his hair, manoeuvring him into position so that another cock could prod at his lips.

“He will take it. How many watching?”

Broad hands on his ass cheeks, squeezing, groping. Steve shivered. He tried to buck away, but he knew it was a pathetic attempt, one which the Hydra operatives probably barely even noticed.

“Sixty thousand, sir.”

_Sixty thousand._

Fingers pried his mouth open to be fucked again. And fingers began working him open from behind. One burned. Two made tears spring to his eyes, and Steve was almost grateful for the cock that slid between his lips just then, because _Stop_ was on the tip of his tongue, despite all his resolve.

“Definitely a virgin.” The fingers were removed. “Fuck. That’s going to feel good. Have you got the camera angle?”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re good to go.”

Steve heard spitting, and then a blunt head was pressing against his entrance. As soon as he felt it, he knew that the preparation wasn’t going to be anywhere near enough. He couldn’t imagine how that thing was going to fit inside of him— Until he didn’t have to imagine, because the head had been forced past his rim, and he was crying out around the one in his mouth. The first inch alone felt like he was being split open. And the Hydra agent kept pushing in, grunting, forcing him to take it.

“Fuck. He’s too – _tight_.”

A laugh. “Didn’t think you’d complain about that, Victor.”

The fingers dug into his hips hard as the man shoved his way inside. It felt as if he was tearing Steve open. It took a few times pulling out and thrusting back in until he managed to sink in fully. Until Steve felt the man’s body flush against his, and by then, he could feel wetness on his cheeks. The cock working in his mouth felt like nothing now, compared to this.

When the man started fucking him, Steve shut his eyes again.

He was sitting with Natasha in her favourite café in Central Park. The latte in front of him smelled sweet and creamy, but was still too hot to drink. She was introducing him to syrup shots. He was in Tony’s workshop, leaning against the wall. He didn’t really have to be there, but Bruce and Pepper were both away, and Tony was in the middle of an “idea”, which meant he wouldn’t be leaving this place for the next week or so. And Steve didn’t like the thought of him being down here alone. Tony was holding a pen in his mouth and talking with his hands. Steve didn’t understand half of the words coming out of his mouth, but he was nodding anything.

He was lying on his back, on two couch cushions pushed together. His spine dipped into the bump where they met. It smelled of – of afternoon, and of dust, and of the body lying beside him. Asthma cigarettes had an oaky aftertaste that lingered on his tongue…

Steve could feel wet slicking the top of his thighs, beneath the searing pain. It took a while to realise that he was being fucked with his own blood. “Victor” came inside him, shoving in with an animalistic grunt and emptying himself, and Steve hated that he was grateful for it, because it eased the way for the next cock that pressed into him, fucking in straight in to the hilt.

It got repetitive real quickly, but not quite repetitive enough for Steve to check out completely. Every so often, one of them would fuck in at a different angle, making him wince, or grab his hair or slap his ass, forcing him to feel it. One of them fucked in at an angle that made his eyes shoot open, tore a strangled noise from his throat. A different sensation. A streak of something that could be something good, if it wasn’t happening like this, laced through the pain, burning just as badly. The man obviously knew what he was doing, because he his fingers dug into Steve’s waist and when he thrusted, he hit the spot again. A strangled noise tore from Steve’s throat, and a whole new wave of humiliation came over him.

He cringed away from the hand that reached between his body, touching his cock for the first time. It wasn’t anywhere near hard, but the Hydra agent fucked him in that way again, and the forced pleasure wracked through him, making his cock twitch, despite everything.

“You like that, don’t you, little slut?” The man dragged his hand down Steve’s cock. “Gonna make you come. Gonna make you come while you’re being fucked full of Hydra cock. Show the world how much you love it.”

Steve tried to resist. He tried harder than he’d tried since this whole nightmare started. But the Hydra agent fucked him _well_ , long, languid strokes hitting their mark every time. The fingers around his cock sped up, tugging on the thread that was building inside of him, his body wanting it without caring about anything else. Steve’s face was burning with a whole new kind of shame, and his sob was muffled into the floor, when he came. They weren’t bothering to use his mouth anymore; they were just lining up for his ass. And after having had the satisfaction of forcing an orgasm from Steve, the Hydra agent set after his own, tugging his hips back up and pounding him with hard grunts.

Steve didn’t know how there were between that one and the one that would be the last. He didn’t know how many had fucked and used and come inside him. His sticky cheek was pressed against the concrete. At some point he’d bitten through his tongue, trying to ground himself in something other than the wet slide of cock in his ass.

The sound of the door opening, and the footsteps, sounded far, far away.

“Sir, there’s something happening in Sector 5— I think there’s some kind of breach—”

“What do you mean, a breach?”

“We’re under attack… sir, I think it’s them.”

Steve didn’t have the energy to lift his head. But he did listen. And he felt the cock in his ass stop moving.

“It can’t be _them_.” Steve heard irritation in the lab coat’s voice for the first time. “There’s only one way they can get into the building. We have the main bay ready and defended for when they arrive.”

“But it’s not coming from the main bay, sir. It’s coming from one of the internal entrances. It’s coming from one of our ow—”

The man didn’t get to finish his sentence. The dick was gone; the hands were gone. Steve was discarded on the ground as the screaming began. Part of him wanted to move – get up, take cover – but the room was so _loud_ , full of shouts and bangs, and every inch of his body was aching, and he didn’t think he could push himself to his knees, let alone to his feet.

It all seemed to end very quickly, anyway. Steve felt someone beside him, and part of him cringed, expecting another set of hands; another fucking. But then, his hands were falling to his sides, and a pressure that had faded to background pain eased from his shoulders. The cuffs on his wrists had been snapped as if they were made of tissue paper.

Hands on his shoulders turned him over. Steve blinked up at the face leaning over him. Brown. Brown hair, hanging down, around the features…

Steve drew in a sharp breath.

“ _Bucky?_ ”

As he blinked some more, the face slid into view. There was far more stubble on his chin than Steve had ever seen, and a smear of blood across his forehead, his brow was furrowed tautly. His lips opened and closed and then opened again, before he finally formed words.

“Steve.” Bucky glanced down at him, at the mess they’d made of him. There wasn’t any disgust in his gaze, but he frowned again. “They hurt you.”

An arm wound around his back, propelling him into a sitting position. A strong arm. Stronger than any of the ones who had hurt him. And yet. Careful. Steve certainly had no love for Hydra, but he had to swallow hard when he saw the state of the room. Just a moment ago, Hydra been holding him down, beating him, fucking him. Now, the floor was covered with bodies. All at once, it was strangely still and eerily silent.

“You’re… small.”

Steve’s brain began to put the pieces together. He had been searching for Bucky for months. He knew Bucky was somewhere in the area, but he’d been evading Steve. But then he must have seen the livestream. He must have seen Steve like this, like he was before the serum, seen what they were doing to him. And he knew how to get into the Hydra base.

“Yeah,” Steve croaked. “Buck… let’s… let’s get out of here, yeah?”

Bucky gazed at him a moment longer, before nodding. He hefted Steve over his shoulder in one smooth motion, and started weaving his way to the door, stepping neatly over the bodies of the Hydra agents.

The last thing Steve saw was the camera. The tripod had fallen; a lab-coated body now draped across it, spine broken. The camera itself was several feet away, facing the ceiling. Steve didn’t know if it was still recording or not. He turned his cheek into the soft material of Bucky’s sweatshirt, and finally let himself pass out.


End file.
